I Will
by Elsha
Summary: Estella Haywood, on her way to Hogwarts, learns that how you see yourself is important, but it's how others see you that can rule your life - for better or worse. Part of the Unity universe.


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A/N:This is a short, two-part fic about Estella Haywood's journey to Hogwarts and Sorting, explaining her attitude towards Malfoy and life - fitting in with her part of See You There, where she undergoes a change of view five years later. The second part of this should go up in about a week. 

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Disclaimer: Everything within, with the exception of Estella Haywood, belongs to JK Rowling and other copyright holders; we're just playing in her sandbox. And great fun it is, too. Estella is ours. Technically. She might dispute the idea. 

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Chapter One: The Hogwarts Express

Estella Haywood boarded the Hogwarts Express silently- as usual. Glancing out the window, she waved once, discreetly, to her mother; and then shifted her attention onto the train. With its gleaming scarlet exterior, it had been rather a shock to the senses; and the bustle, shrieks, assorted mums shouting last minute advice, a rather drippy looking boy who was looking for a toad, hordes of students, young and old, and the sight of a redheaded boy dashing past- and then apparently dashing past _again_- combined to dazzle her slightly. But she tossed her head, and marched through the train until she came to a carriage nearly empty, occupied only by a slim boy with his head buried determinedly in a book. _He looks quiet enough,_ she thought; _I wonder what year he is._

Piling her baggage onto one of the overhead compartments, she paused and ran her hand over her wand before pulling it out of her bag. _Eight and a half inches, ebony and dragon heart string,_ a voice muttered in her head, _well whatever you do, young lady, I'm sure you'll do it with great purpose_ grey eyes examined the length of wood, warm to the touch; then she shoved it into her pocket, a reassuring weight. Stepping back, Estella surveyed the carriage; letting her eyes rest on its only other occupant; she decided that describing him a slim was probably too kind. He could more fairly be called weedy, a thin, pale boy with stringy hair that flopped over his eyes. _I wonder if that is Draco Malfoy. _She glanced up to his luggage; embossed on the rather expensive-looking trunk was the legend

__

T. Nott  
The Grange  
Yorkshire

No, apparently not. Estella settled onto one of the seats, and turned her gaze outside. She leant her head very lightly against the pane, and watched moodily as the graying English countryside sped past.

Some time later, she was startled by a bustling witch with a tray.

" Food, luvs; do you want any? Now, look at the pair of you, you look like you could use a nice Cauldron Cake-"

The weedy boy cut her off. "No," he said acidly, "thankyou, no."

"And what about you, ducks," enquired the witch, turning her eys on Estella; but she shook her head silently. She probably couldn't afford anything anyway. "Well, alright, then, dears; remember, if you do want something, I'm up the front with the driver. Ta-ta, now"

Estella watched her leave, and then jumped in surprise as a new, drawling voice spoke.

"Nott," it said coolly.

"Malfoy, " responded the weedy boy, with a jerk of his head the approximated a nod.

Estella barely stopped herself jumping; turning her head casually, she saw a short blonde boy with his hair slicked back unattractively and what looked like a perpetual sneer. _So this is dear cousin Dracowhat a jerk._ She began to turn her head away, but suddenly the older boy looked at her.

"And who is this, Nott? A new pet?"

"How should I know? She just walked in. A first year, looks like."

"Indeed well, girl?"

Estella narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'm sorry? Did no-one tell you it's rude to talk over people's heads?"

Malfoy's eyes hardened. "Did no-one tell you it's rude to answer back? Your name?"

She looked at him frostily, lifting her chin. "Estella Haywood- and I know who you are, Draco Malfoy. So polite of you to introduce yourself." _I wonder if he'll know me_

The blonde boy started. "Ah. A _Mudblood,_" he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "And what exactly are you doing in this carriage, _Mudblood?_"

"I think I can be in whichever carriage I like- _cousin,_" replied Estella.

His eyes snapped. "You're no cousin of mine, Mudblood!"

"Really? Oh, that's odd. See, my grandmother always told me that she was born Eris Malfoy- and then she married George Haywood. And her son Simon Haywood married Sarah Fawcett. And then I was born, Estella Haywood- which makes you my second cousin, cousin Draco."

"As if we acknowledge relation to _your_ sort. Eris was a blood traitor, marrying someone with Muggles for parents."

"Oh, of course not, because we're not as good as you, are we? Too dirty for the inbred. But I have news for you, cousin; whether we're acknowledged or not, I've just as much Malfoy blood as you have- and I'm just as good as you are!"

"As if you could be. No matter what you do or say, I am a pureblood- and you will never be, Haywood. I'll see you in Hufflepuff." He turned on his heel and stalked towards the door. "Come on, Nott; I'm surprised you can stand the stench of _dirt_ in here."

The weedy boy got up and followed the shorter boy out of the carriage- and paused at the door, looking back.

"Go on, then, pureblood, get out!" hissed Estella. "Go follow Draco wherever he leads." His eyes flickered with something- and then his lip curled and he walked out. 

Breathing hard, Estella forced herself to relax and sit back again, running her fingers over her wand. _Hufflepuff, am I? He wishes. I'm as pureblood as they are- and as good at magic. I'll show them they can't dismiss me like that. I'll _make_ him acknowledge me. I'll _make _them accept me. I will._ She turned her head towards the window again; pale grey eyes watched the passing countryside, blurred only a little by one unshed tear. _I will._


End file.
